


Build [Inktober 2019]

by california_112



Category: Biggles Series - W. E. Johns
Genre: Boredom, Gen, Inktober, Inktober 2019, Rawlham, Scarecrow - Freeform, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 06:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20903300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/california_112/pseuds/california_112
Summary: One by one, the officers trooped upstairs to get their warmer clothing like naughty children, then back down again and out to the front of the farmhouse. The grass runway stretched away into the near distance, a thin mist hiding the absolute end from view, and a painfully low cloud base seemed to actively depress their spirits as they went outside. Biggles closed the door behind them personally, with a mutter of '…can't do anything constructive', before returning to his office. The silence had never seemed more golden.-or-The officers of 666 Squadron are bored, and Biggles isn't impressed.ABSOLUTELY 0% SPOILERS FOR ANYTHINGThis is for Inktober 2019 - Saturday 5th, Build.





	Build [Inktober 2019]

Early October had bought a chill down on Rawlham Aerodrome, Kent, home to 666 (Fighter) Squadron. As low cloud and squally showers precluded any flying, the officers had spent most of the first proper week of autumn squashed in the mess, but their boisterous spirits had not been dampened. For the third day in a row, a game of 'Toss' had been set up, the rules of which were not clear, but which at some basic level involved jumping from chair to chair whilst a bundle of paper was batted around, with a 'goal' occasionally being scored, to loud cheers. In his office a short distance away, Biggles was attempting to catch up on some paperwork, and wasn't finding the crashing and whooping very conducive to efficiency.

It was after one particularly violent incident that his patience snapped- an unusually loud crash and a cry followed by the pattering of feet and lots of low murmuring drew Biggles into the corridor. He hurried into the mess when there was a loud cry of 'Ow!', and was met with the officers crowing around someone on the floor. Quickly pushing his way to the centre, he saw Henry lying on the ground, one trouser leg marred by a massive rip, and a long, thin bruise forming underneath. It seemed that he had poked it, causing the exclamation of pain.

"What happened here?" Biggles asked, helping Henry to sit tenderly on an armchair.

A chorus of voices answered.

"Well, we were-"

"I think what happened was-"

"It was like this-"

"Alright, settle down." Biggles commanded. "I don't need all the details. Henry, how did this happen?"

Henry turned an embarrassed shade of red. "I thought I could catch the toss, but Tex was in the circle and Taffy was on the half, so I bounced off Ginger and fell against the table." he explained. "Sorry."

"I won't pretend I understood that, but it's clear to me that you've all spent too much time inside." Biggles concluded. "Unless Henry needs a doctor, I'm turning you all outside for some fresh air. Don't complain that it's cold," he added, forestalling the protests he could see forming on people's lips, "you've all got winter woollies. Out."

One by one, the officers trooped upstairs to get their warmer clothing like naughty children, then back down again and out to the front of the farmhouse. The grass runway stretched away into the near distance, a thin mist hiding the absolute end from view, and a painfully low cloud base seemed to actively depress their spirits as they went outside. Biggles closed the door behind them personally, with a mutter of '…can't do anything constructive', before returning to his office. The silence had never seemed more golden.

Outside, the officers hadn't moved from their huddle on the forecourt of the farmhouse, unsure of what to do. They had all heard the comment labelling them unconstructive, but nobody was particularly inclined to rush around doing jobs- it was a freezing day, after all. A game of football was meekly suggested, but nobody seemed in the mood. After a further minute of silence, Ginger stamped his foot in annoyance.

"Well we can't just not do anything, we'll freeze." he said moodily.

"What would you like to do?" Tug asked sarcastically, "sweep out the Spitfires?"

This was met with a titter of laughter, but Ginger didn't break. "You all heard the CO's comment about us being unconstructive." he called, appealing to their grazed pride. The crowd stirred, unsure where this was leading. "Well, are we going to let that pass?" Ginger demanded.

"No!" Angus called, from the back of the group.

"Let's do something!" Ferocity agreed.

"Well what are we going to do to prove to Biggles that we've been constructive?" Tug pointed out. "The station's already spotless, the NCOs have been all over it for the past two days."

"Oh, be quiet, Tug, we'll make something. How about a- a shed, a new shed of some kind?" Ginger suggested, grabbing at stray ideas.

"Nah, that's boring." Tex said. "Why don't we go into the village and get some pumpkins, ready for Hallowe'en?"

"Are you planning to walk? And pay?" Ginger asked coldly, "Biggles definitely won't let us have a truck after Henry's little incident. Not to mention last weekend."

There was a bout of embarrassed coughing and shuffling, which soon died down. Bertie chipped in for the first time.

"How about we build a scarecrow, old chap?"

"That's an idea," Henry said, "There's a load of straw in that old barn round the back of the hangars that I was saving for Annie over the winter. We could use some of it for stuffing."

"Smyth told me the head came off a broom yesterday, we can use the handle as a crossbar for the arms." Angus said.

"Wasn't there a long branch on the firewood pile we could use for a stand?" Tex wondered aloud.

Ginger smiled around at his friends, happy that their plan was coming together. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind.

"What are we going to dress it in?" him asked, suddenly realising that they were missing the essential part of a scarecrow.

"I've got a shirt which is more hole than fabric, we could use that." Tug volunteered.

"My trousers that gave out earlier, we can use them!" Henry called, smiling.

"I'm sure there must be an old tunic of mine around somewhere…" Ferocity said, and ran off to try and sneak into farmhouse without the CO noticing, followed by a pack of other clothing-hunters.

Those who were left outside set about finding the alleged broom-handle and piece of suitable firewood, before gathering in the barn with the straw, hoping to make the smallest amount of mess, and also get out of the wind. As soon as the clothing and a handy sewing kit arrived, groups set about stuffing the straw into the clothing, then assembling the new mascot. After a spare sack with a face drawn on it was attached as a head, there was just one thing missing.

"A hat!" Bertie exclaimed, looking at the bare burlap head. "What are we going to use for a bally hat?"

All the officers stared at the forlorn figure on the ground, then Taffy very solemnly took his forage cap out from his epaulette and arranged it on the scarecrow's head, before putting a couple of stitches around the edges and standing back.

"Won't you get told off for not having a cap?" Ginger queried, as the party bore its newest member out of the barn a minute later.

"I'll say I leant it to a friend." Taffy said, with a wink. "Besides, it's not mine- I was borrowing from Tug."

Both glanced at Tug, then broke into a fit of giggles that they quickly hid. Soon afterwards, they arrived at the vegetable patch, and hammered the scarecrow into the soil. Standing back, the officers looked at their work: not bad, for people who couldn't do 'anything constructive'. As they were congratulating themselves, there were hurried footsteps behind them, and Biggles skidded around the corner, looking slightly frantic. However, as soon as he spotted his men, he relaxed, and walked over to them at a much more normal pace.

"There you are! The place was so quiet I thought you'd all deserted!" he greeted jovially. "Who's the friend?"

"Flying Officer…Crow!" Ginger introduced, spinning their companion to face the CO.

Biggles took one look at the crooked smile which had been hurriedly painted on and burst out laughing, smiling at the assembled officers.

"Is this in response to my comment earlier?"

"You don't tell us that we're not constructive then expect us to do nothing, sir." Tex grinned.

"Well, I didn't really mean it…but well done anyway." Biggles congratulated. "I think we'll have to show Flying Officer Crow a good time tonight, especially as this bad weather's due to break tomorrow- dinner's on me!"

**Author's Note:**

> i actually really enjoyed writing this one, love these lads
> 
> It's Biggles time again! Inktober marches on...


End file.
